A F F I L I A T E D

10. T H E H A I R S T Y L I S T

August 19, 2011.

Weston Park. Weston, England.

5:43 pm

"Okay we're going to do one run through and that's it. The visual trucks will be here tomorrow so we'll have one final practice during sound check tomorrow", Ciarra, Rihanna's creative director explained to her as she knelt in front of us at the front of the stage. I watched as her dancers practiced in the background trying to make sure the routine was flawless.

The European leg of the LOUD tour had begun a few days ago so I flew in on a red eye at 4am this morning to style her hair for the launch of her first ever perfume Reb'l fleur. To say I was proud of Rob's evolution would have been an understatement. I viewed her as a little sister so to watch her break barriers and become more than what she ever imagined was amazing. She was an inspiration and I was grateful to be a part of that journey.

"Here's your mic. I'm going to go tell John to go on your cue. Give him like ten minutes."

Robyn nodded then grabbed a towel from Jen before standing and walking towards her dancers. I took my phone out in an attempt to busy myself. I didn't join Rob for her LOUD Tour shows in Finland and Norway earlier this week due to being booked by another high-profile client so this was my first time seeing Christian since he walked out of my apartment almost a week ago.

"I'm ready", Rihanna said into the mic signaling the dancers to take their positions.

I looked up and the first face I landed on was his. I watched him as Rob ran through some of the choreography for the show. Over the week I started to feel real bad about what happened. All I wanted to do was apologize and get back to normal but he was sending my calls to voicemail and not responding to my text messages. I was hoping now that I was here we could talk face to face.

About 20 minutes later Rob was done with sound check and everyone was clearing the stage. I was going back to the hotel to work on her hair, she just needed a touch up, but before I headed out I needed to talk to Christian.

As he exited the stage I headed to the side to catch him coming down the stairs. He was talking to one of the other male dancers when he looked up and saw me standing there.

"I'll catch up with you in a minute b."

"Alright," Marcus said as they did a handshake. "Hey what's up Ursula."

"Hey Marc." I mumbled as he gave me a hug.

When he walked away I was almost tempted to go with him. I really didn't know how this conversation with Christian was going to go, worst case scenario he could tell me that he never wanted to talk to me again. Although we had a friendship first, I didn't know how he was going to act. I figured I would start the conversation off light and kind of ease him into a talk about what happened.

"Hey, how you been?"

"I'm good. I gotta get back to the bus so what's up?" he asked dismissing my small talk.

Okay so far not so good.

"Okay, look. I just want to apologize for first how I came at you last week. It was uncalled for and I was in my feelings about the whole situation. It's not an excuse because I was dead wrong, I admit that. I just wanted a chance to explain myself and fix it."

He wiped his face and neck with the towel he was carrying, "Alright cool, apology accepted. Is that it?"

I sighed. This was going to be harder than I thought.

"Christian don't be like this."

"I'm not being like nothing. You said what you said and I'm good. It is what it is," he sighed nonchalantly.